Willem Bekers | Ghent University (original) (raw)

Papers by Willem Bekers

Much of the experiments leading to the development of World War I ship camouflage are conducted o... more Much of the experiments leading to the development of World War I ship camouflage are conducted on an intuitive basis or based upon pseudo-scientific work. As a result of this rather empirical approach, possible effects of the naval camouflage schemes that were developed against the background of submarine warfare on the Atlantic remain unclear. These dazzle paint schemes are conceived to break up target contours and disclose the ship’s number, direction, speed and range – thus rendering range finding and targeting more difficult through primitive stereoscopic range finders and periscopes used at the time. Digital image analysis provides helpful tools to evaluate the effects of those dazzle painting techniques. When applying dazzle map textures to digital models and simulating atmospheric conditions, different paint schemes can be examined and evaluated under various circumstances. Shape recognition algorithms are able to draw some conclusions about different dazzle designs. This paper provides a brief overview of the origins, key designers and methodology of dazzle camouflage, followed by the setup of an experimental workflow for automated image analysis on rendered digital models. The test indicates some possible effects of the World War I paint schemes.

Published in 2021 in Mechelen by A&D 50 vzw, 2021

Touring Belgium. A nation's patrimony in print, ca. 1795-1914., 2020

Even before the guns went silent in late 1918, French tyre manufacturer Michelin published the fi... more Even before the guns went silent in late 1918, French tyre manufacturer Michelin published the first from a series of guidebooks to the battlefields of the Western Front. Being just one among many battlefield guides to appear in the aftermath of the Great War, the Michelin guides responded to an increasing demand for information about reaching and touring the battered landscape and the ruins left by the conflict. What sets the Michelin guides apart from their counterparts, is the extensive use of exactly those techniques that the military had applied so successfully during the war: detailed maps, high-quality photographs and spot-on information for motorised traffic. This methodical approach parallels wartime military advancements in cartography (artillery barrage and trench maps), photography (aerial reconnaissance and damage survey) and technology (mechanised and motorised warfare). Taking this idea one step further, the methodology of the Michelin guide can be considered a logical continuation of the company’s earlier efforts in the French war industry. Departing from such insights, the proposed paper looks into the troublesome relation between tourism and conflict space. More specifically, it uses the Michelin guidebook to demonstrate how the First World War is a turning point in this respect. Battlefield tourism was far from a new phenomenon in 1918, with early accounts reporting back to Waterloo and the emerging tourism industry following the American Civil War. Battlefield guides then provided assistance in making the conflict topography readable and understandable to the untrained eye of the non-military visitor. This role of the landscape, as merely being a passive backdrop for military events that were limited in time and space, changes radically during World War I. The continued stalemate of the Western Front, combined with the potential of industrialised warfare, turns temporary fieldworks into permanent spatial interventions and transforms the landscape into a space to be modified, constructed and urbanised – in short designed. The Michelin issue on the Yser and the Belgian coast demonstrates how this is even more true for the front in the Flanders region. The guidebook sets off with a detailed survey of the geology and micro-topography of the battlefield, explaining how local conditions paved the way for an artificial landscape of inundations and solid ground-level constructions, rather than trenches and underground warfare that characterise most of the Western Front. Furthermore, it depicts the ruinscape of the front in a series of before-and-after photographs of monuments, not unlike, for instance, the image report of the Misson Dhuicque which captured the destroyed Belgian heritage between 1915 and 1918. But the Michelin guide also looks at experimental structures in reinforced concrete behind the lines, such as the submarine shelters in the port of Bruges, and places them at the same footing of the monuments in the medieval centre of the city. In doing so, the Michelin guide exemplifies a modern approach towards the artificialities of the landscape, heritage and built environment of the conflict.

New perspectives on Camouflage and Abstraction, Proceedings, 2019

After taking possession of the Belgian coastal region in 1914, the Germans installed the Kaiserli... more After taking possession of the Belgian coastal region in 1914, the Germans installed the Kaiserliche Marinewerft Brügge, thus transforming the newly constructed inner port of Bruges into a spearhead for the naval war theatre. Its increasingly strategic importance throughout the war, turned the Marinewerft into a rewarding target for aerial bombing. This confrontation between the new tactical layers of submerged and aerial warfare is condensed in the planning and construction activity in the port, hinting at a changed spatiotemporal experience of conflict space in the context of industrialised warfare. Throughout this paper, the analysis of the transformation of the inner port of Bruges before, during and after the war, raises two questions. One leads to the perception of an extemporised military planning attitude, as opposed to the advanced engineering of some of the constructed buildings in the area. This insight is supported by a more detailed case on the application of reinforced concrete in shelter constructions. The other is related to the possible catalyst whether obstructing effects of military presence for the development of the port, or, in more general terms, to the tension between civil and military spatial planning

Building Knowledge, Constructing Histories, 2018

History of Construction Cultures, 2021

The paper explores the emergence of general contractors in late 19th century Siam when the corvée... more The paper explores the emergence of general contractors in late 19th century Siam when the corvée system, which customarily provided primary resources for government construction, declined. This period's main features were the introduction of capitalism into construction, the establishment of the Public Works Department, and the abolition of the corvée system. By looking at difficulties that the Siamese government had in dealing with the shortage of labour and the ineffectiveness in supplying building materials under the corvée system, the paper shows how European contractors offered Siamese rulers an alternative way of construction. The introduction of the general contract to tender, enabled both parties to benefit. In short, the rise of contracting in Siam was not purely the result of independent enterprise by individual contractors, but part of a holistic attempt to address the long-standing problems inherent within the corvée system.

Much against the advice of his military counsellors about static fortifications being obsolete in... more Much against the advice of his military counsellors about static fortifications being obsolete in an age and continent of gunboat diplomacy, the Belgian king Leopold II took a resolute stand. Holding on to the doctrine of positional warfare that had turned Belgium into an impregnable fortress in previous decades, he wanted the biggest guns mounted in the biggest fort of central Africa. In 1890 construction took off in Shinkakasa, strategically located within a stone’s throw of the Congo Free State’s capital Boma. Dominating the Congo river’s estuary, the fort was supposed to temper Portuguese and French ambitions towards the central African hinterland. In 1901, during the final stages of its construction, the fort was the scene of a particularly painful incident, when Leopold’s own Force Publique – forcefully recruited from Congo’s villages as cheap labour for the construction site – turned the guns towards the capital. In contrast to scholarly attention devoted to the rebellion in ...

In the historiography of the 1960s’ ‘design thinking’ movement, the desire to ‘scientise’ design ... more In the historiography of the 1960s’ ‘design thinking’ movement, the desire to ‘scientise’ design is generally attributed to the application of novel, scientific and computational methods for the new and pressing problems generated by the Second World War - from which came civilian developments such as operations research and decision-making techniques in management. However, a certain scientific approach towards design is already discernible in some of the positivist ideas within the 1920s modern movement that emerged from the ideological vacuum after World War I. Here too, the conflict offered a fertile breeding ground for advancements in military-architectural design and construction, through the adoption of managerial systems, model-based design approaches and experiments in modular construction, prefabrication and material technology. This paper looks into the dialectics between science and design, by questioning the role of modernist architectural networks in the aftermath of W...

This essay traces the evolution and use of military scale models during the First World War. The ... more This essay traces the evolution and use of military scale models during the First World War. The application of such models by all belligerents is characterized by an enormous diversity in scale, context, construction method and purpose. Between the two extremes of a full scale replica of the Paris agglomeration and the tiny boxed miniature of a POW prison cell, a whole range of military models can be distinguished. On one hand, the model production can be considered part of a long tradition of military terrain modeling, as is evident in the examples of relief maps and training models. On the other hand, the rapidly changing technological and tactical developments during the Great War –such as strategic aerial bombing, camouflage and submarine warfare—require the creation of new types of scale models. During the last stages of the war, the encapsulation of the model as research object in a laboratory, looked at through optical devices and studied through model photography, demonstra...

Starting in August 1917, a large submarine shelter was erected in the port of Bruges. Its constru... more Starting in August 1917, a large submarine shelter was erected in the port of Bruges. Its construction completed a transition from mixed wood-and-steel structures to all-concrete bunkers in this area. The new Gruppenunterstand prefigured many of the typological and technical key features of the iconic submarine pens from World War II. An early application of reinforced concrete, the bunker in Bruges illustrates how the Great War serves as a breeding ground for experiment. Moreover, it exemplifies the underexposure of military pioneering work in the field of construction.

During the initial stages of the Congo Free State (1885-1908), forerunner of the Belgian Congo, a... more During the initial stages of the Congo Free State (1885-1908), forerunner of the Belgian Congo, an impressive coastal battery with big caliber naval guns was installed just upstream of the capital Boma. Built on rocky heights overlooking the Congo river estuary, it was meant to protect the city against the threat of enemy gunboats and amphibious landings by rivaling colonial powers. From the very beginning, the situation of the battery raised doubts on its strategic relevance and its military architectural defaults were soon exposed. In the slipstream of the arms race between artillery and fortification technology at the turn of the 20th century and inspired by the zeal of major fortification programs in the Belgian metropole, it was soon decided to convert the open redan-shaped battery in brick masonry into a closed polygonal concrete fortress. After the First World War (during which the big caliber guns were stripped to serve in the war theatre of Lake Tanganyika) the fort was dec...

Automation in Construction, 2020

DOI to the publisher's website. • The final author version and the galley proof are versions of t... more DOI to the publisher's website. • The final author version and the galley proof are versions of the publication after peer review. • The final published version features the final layout of the paper including the volume, issue and page numbers. Link to publication General rights Copyright and moral rights for the publications made accessible in the public portal are retained by the authors and/or other copyright owners and it is a condition of accessing publications that users recognise and abide by the legal requirements associated with these rights. • Users may download and print one copy of any publication from the public portal for the purpose of private study or research. • You may not further distribute the material or use it for any profit-making activity or commercial gain • You may freely distribute the URL identifying the publication in the public portal. If the publication is distributed under the terms of Article 25fa of the Dutch Copyright Act, indicated by the "Taverne" license above, please follow below link for the End User Agreement:

Defence Sites III: Heritage and Future, 2016

Much of the experiments that led to the development of World War I ship camouflage were conducted... more Much of the experiments that led to the development of World War I ship camouflage were conducted on an intuitive basis or based upon pseudo-scientific work. As a result of this rather empirical approach, possible effects of the naval camouflage schemes that were developed against the background of submarine warfare on the Atlantic still remain unclear. So-called dazzle paint schemes were conceived to break up target contours and disclose the ship's number, direction, speed and distance-thus complicating targeting through primitive stereoscopic range finders and periscopes used at the time. Digital image analysis provides helpful tools to assess the effects of dazzle painting techniques. By applying dazzle map textures to digital three dimensional models, different paint schemes can be examined and evaluated under variable atmospheric conditions. Shape recognition algorithms are implemented in an attempt to draw some conclusions about different dazzle designs. This paper provides a brief overview of the origins and methodology of dazzle camouflage. It proposes an experimental framework for ship classification purpose, thus exploring the possibilities of quantitative analysis of rendered computer images to evaluate possible effects of dazzle painting. The test results indicate some possible effects of the World War I paint schemes.

The relationship between design and the military can be approached from various viewpoints. The o... more The relationship between design and the military can be approached from various viewpoints. The overlapping concepts of military design (on different scale levels between product design and town planning), design thinking (design methodology) and military thinking (evolution of military doctrine) can be combined into the concept of ‘military design thinking’. Military design thinking relies on a “scientized” approach towards (architectural) design. Conflict is seen as a fertile breeding ground, absorbing civil creativity and setting a military inspired paradigm of modernity. The transformation of reinforced concrete from a primitive to a modern material on the battlefields of World War I is taken as a case study. The conflict marks a turning point in the typological evolution from geometrically inspired fortification methods towards the condensed architectural object of the monolithic bunker. Moreover, some late World War I examples display a variety of new and semi-industrialized c...

History of Construction Cultures, 2021

Between 1925 and 1929, the IJzertoren [Yser tower] memorial was built on the Yser river banks in ... more Between 1925 and 1929, the IJzertoren [Yser tower] memorial was built on the Yser river banks in the Belgian town Dixmude. Both war memorial and monument to Flanders' struggle for political emancipation, the tower became an increasingly charged and divisive symbol in interwar Belgium, and its construction was highly ideologized. This situation, exacerbated by the tower's associations with collaborationism in the next war, would ultimately lead to its intentional destruction in 1946 under still unclear circumstances. The subsequent question if, how and by whom the tower should be reconstructed, refueled these debates. Despite ambitious reconstruction plans, the memorial was eventually rebuilt between 1952 and 1965 as a slightly modified and upscaled replica of the old tower, an approach that deliberately rejected modern design references or construction methods. The lengthy construction process itself was operationalized in propaganda and iconography of the annual Flemish nationalist rallies that were staged on the building site.

Water, doors and buildings. Studies in the history of construction, 2019

In contrast to scholarly attention devoted to the rebellion in Shinkakasa, the construction phase remains somewhat underexposed. Nevertheless, the case is an interesting exception for the central African context, where construction remained largely dependent on indigenous building materials and knowhow until the 1920s. The building site of Shinkakasa demonstrates how, even in an early colonial context, a one-to-one translation of Belgian building science and technology clashes with local realities. The first (large-scale) application of concrete, the military management of the building site and the introduction of state-of-the-art equipment were all at odds with the scarcity of imported building materials, the reliance on indigenous knowhow, the difficult communication with experts in the Métropole, and the – alleged – incompetency of ‘unskilled’ black labour. In this paper we argue that the colonial building site can hardly be understood as the simple export of fully mastered building technologies ‘from the West to the Rest’. While most construction historians working on Africa have been focusing on the export of (prefabricated) building(s) technologies to the continent, a more recent interest in different actors of the construction process – in particular the Colonial Public Works Departments, private contracting companies and (still incipient) African labour – sparked a true postcolonial turn in the construction history of the non-West.

With the archives of the Congo Free State largely destroyed, picturing the building site conditions is a challenging task. Nevertheless, a series of photographs in the archives of the Royal Museum for Central Africa gives a surprisingly inclusive image of the realities on the building site. In particular the African labourers take up a central role in these images, all the more striking if juxtaposed to the few written testimonies of the construction site by engineers or high-ranked military personnel. While in these official reports black labourers are always reduced to ‘man-hours of unskilled labour’, several of the photographs offer a more nuanced perspective on construction in a colonial context. The case is formatted as a ‘visual essay’ in which diptychs of photographs are juxtaposed to the few written sources as to trace different tensions present on the building site.

Building Knowledge, Constructing Histories, 2018

Starting in August 1917, a large submarine shelter was erected in the German-occupied port of Bru... more Starting in August 1917, a large submarine shelter was erected in the German-occupied port of Bruges. Its construction completed a transition from mixed steel-and-timber shelters to all-concrete bunkers in this area. The new 'Gruppenunterstände' prefigured many of the typological, technological and logistic key features of the iconic submarine pens from World War II, when lessons learnt from the Bruges prototype were to be pushed to extremes. The case of the Bruges submarine pens exemplifies the scientifically managed construction site and hints at the underexposure of experimental military concrete technology in architectural construction history. It is argued that the conflict period, rather than forming a gap in an otherwise continuous evolution of building practice, created certain opportunities for a modern and experimental attitude towards building typology and construction.

Published in 2021 in Mechelen by A&D 50 vzw, 2021

Touring Belgium. A nation's patrimony in print, ca. 1795-1914., 2020

New perspectives on Camouflage and Abstraction, Proceedings, 2019

Building Knowledge, Constructing Histories, 2018

History of Construction Cultures, 2021

Automation in Construction, 2020

Defence Sites III: Heritage and Future, 2016

History of Construction Cultures, 2021

Water, doors and buildings. Studies in the history of construction, 2019

Building Knowledge, Constructing Histories, 2018

In the historiography of the 1960s’ ‘design methods movement,' the desire to ‘scientise’ design i... more In the historiography of the 1960s’ ‘design methods movement,' the desire to ‘scientise’ design is generally attributed to the application of novel, scientific and computational methods for the new and pressing problems generated by the Second World War - from which came civilian developments such as operations research and decision-making techniques in management. However, a certain scientific approach towards design is already discernible in some of the positivist ideas within the 1920s modern movement that emerged from the ideological vacuum after World War I. Here too, the conflict offered a fertile breeding ground for advancements in military-architectural design and construction, through the adoption of managerial systems, model-based design approaches and experiments in modular construction, prefabrication and material technology.
This paper looks into the dialectics between science and design, by questioning the role of modernist architectural networks in the aftermath of World War I. It uses social network analysis to determine the role of what could be called ‘military design thinking’ within the circles of the Novembergruppe, the Bauhaus and (later) Der Ring. These insights are supported by the parallel stories of two of their prominent architects, Erich Mendelsohn and Ernst Neufert, who would later find themselves in opposing camps. The first, an émigré architect, acted as a consultant in the construction of a mock-up German village in the Utah desert in 1943, serving as a testing facility for the aerial bombing of German cities. The latter, through his interwar work on building standardization, became involved in German air-raid protection programs under Speer during the Second World War. On one hand, this combined case illustrates how the modern movement acted as a conductor for a scientific design approach between both world wars. On the other hand, it hints at the questionable catalyst effects of conflict to the advancements of design thinking.

The proposed paper offers a preliminary comparative study of the construction and afterlife of fo... more The proposed paper offers a preliminary comparative study of the construction and afterlife of four war memorials that were erected, or initiated at least, by different Belgian war veterans’ associations, reflecting different nationalisms that had slumbered in the trenches of the Belgian front of the First World War. The Belgenmonument in Amersfoort in the Netherlands was built as a job-creating and learning project for interned Belgian soldiers in the Netherlands towards the end of the war. It wanted to express the gratitude of the Belgian nation towards the Dutch people for taking in refugees during the war, but became subject to a diplomatic riot between both nations after the Armistice and was not inaugurated before 1938. The IJzertoren memorial (1925-1930) in Dixmude, a crowdfunded private memorial constructed by Flemish nationalist veterans, evolved into an ambiguous and divisive symbol already during its construction process, and reflected growing tensions between regionalist and belgicist factions in the interwar years. It’s entanglement with collaborationism during the Second World War ultimately lead to its destruction in 1946, and its reconstruction between 1952-1965. The Albert I gedenkteken (1938) in Nieuport, initiated by the National Belgian Veterans Association, was heralded as Belgium’s official memorial but never came close to fulfilling that role. Finally, the Mémorial Interallié (1925-1938) in Liège-Cointe was to represent international solidarity and reconciliation between all former belligerents, but failed to include the defeated nations and instead developed into a memorial of the victorious. It was erected on a symbolic location by diverse international veterans associations. Looking into neutrality, regionalism, nationalism, and internationalism, a quick-scan of these four memorials illustrates the diversified political landscape of the interwar years that had emerged in circles of war veterans, and hints towards the divisive nature of post-war commemoration, which would resonate until deep into 20th-century society. Furthermore, this study unveils the until now underexposed agency of war veteran associations within the material and memorial culture of the First Word War.

Whereas the historiography of the IJzertoren has been claimed almost exclusively by scholars of F... more Whereas the historiography of the IJzertoren has been claimed almost exclusively by scholars of Flemish nationalism and by art historians focusing on the iconography of the tower’s statues, it remains somewhat of a blind spot in architectural and construction history. This is a remarkable feat, not in the least because the IJzertoren memorial is the only architectural object currently included as such in the attainment targets of Flemish primary education. Recent scholarly work has tried to remedy this by approaching the memorial from a construction history perspective, at the same time emphasizing its contribution to the process of nation building.
The proposed paper builds upon this work and looks deeper into the operationalization of a so-called “vocabulary of the construction site” into the nationalist rhetoric of the IJzerbedevaartcomité during the annual rallies in the period 1952-65, timeframe of the IJzertoren’s reconstruction. Building cranes, site equipment, scaffolding, scale models and reinforcement bars featured prominently throughout these pilgrimages and its visual culture, indicating how the reconstruction embodied the renewed aspirations of the postwar Flemish movement. Operating on different levels, the translation of this formal language of the building site into a staged event impacted considerably on the iconography of the pilgrimages. On one hand, the construction site was used and designed as a stage, as a pulpit and as a canvas. On the other hand, successive pilgrimages centered on milestones in the construction, such as the driving of the first foundation pile, the groundbreaking ceremony or the erection of the maypole. The fetching of building materials even became the central theme of the 1955 pilgrimage. Interestingly, less important events were also celebrated and mediatized, such as the geotechnical survey or the drainage works. The paper aims to assess the impact and modus operandi of this “symbolism of reconstruction” as a metaphor for the Flemish movement’s postwar resurrection, taking advantage of the destruction of the old IJzertoren. This implies that the interplay between the monument and its commemoration is not a one-way process: nationalist ideologies bestowed the bricks and concrete of the IJzertoren with ideology, but also the other way around, since the very act of building and reconstruction fueled nationalist rhetoric.

Even before the guns went silent in late 1918, French tyre manufacturer Michelin published the fi... more Even before the guns went silent in late 1918, French tyre manufacturer Michelin published the first from a series of guidebooks to the battlefields of the Western Front. Being just one among many battlefield guides to appear in the aftermath of the Great War, the Michelin guides responded to an increasing demand for information about reaching and touring the battered landscape and the ruins left by the conflict. What sets the Michelin guides apart from their counterparts, is the extensive use of exactly those techniques that the military had applied so successfully during the war: detailed maps, high-quality photographs and spot-on information for motorised traffic. This methodical approach parallels wartime military advancements in cartography (artillery barrage and trench maps), photography (aerial reconnaissance and damage survey) and technology (mechanised and motorised warfare). Taking this idea one step further, the methodology of the Michelin guide can be considered a logical continuation of the company’s earlier efforts in the French war industry.
Departing from such insights, the proposed paper looks into the troublesome relation between tourism and conflict space. More specifically, it uses the Michelin guidebook to demonstrate how the First World War is a turning point in this respect. Battlefield tourism was far from a new phenomenon in 1918, with early accounts reporting back to Waterloo and the emerging tourism industry following the American Civil War. Battlefield guides then provided assistance in making the conflict topography readable and understandable to the untrained eye of the non-military visitor. This role of the landscape, as merely being a passive backdrop for military events that were limited in time and space, changes radically during World War I. The continued stalemate of the Western Front, combined with the potential of industrialised warfare, turns temporary fieldworks into permanent spatial interventions and transforms the landscape into a space to be modified, constructed and urbanised – in short designed.
The Michelin issue on the Yser and the Belgian coast demonstrates how this is even more true for the front in the Flanders region. The guidebook sets off with a detailed survey of the geology and micro-topography of the battlefield, explaining how local conditions paved the way for an artificial landscape of inundations and solid ground-level constructions, rather than trenches and underground warfare that characterise most of the Western Front. Furthermore, it depicts the ruinscape of the front in a series of before-and-after photographs of monuments, not unlike, for instance, the image report of the Misson Dhuicque which captured the destroyed Belgian heritage between 1915 and 1918. But the Michelin guide also looks at experimental structures in reinforced concrete behind the lines, such as the submarine shelters in the port of Bruges, and places them at the same footing of the monuments in the medieval centre of the city. In doing so, the Michelin guide exemplifies a modern approach towards the artificialities of the landscape, heritage and built environment of the conflict.

The nexus between the military apparatus and architectural design has been highlighted in numerou... more The nexus between the military apparatus and architectural design has been highlighted in numerous recent publications, not only in the field of architectural and construction history, but also in military doctrines which have integrated design as a strategy. In recent decades, the military’s preoccupation with complex systems in scenario-based operational planning has forged a strange alliance with the postwar architectural design thinking movement and its promise to deal with so-called “wicked” design problems, relying on model-based simulation in iterative design cycles. Departing from the (physical and digital) scale model and its application, I will highlight the mutual influence between architecture and the military, against the backdrop of three key moments in twentieth-century conflict.